Curiosity Is The Parent Of Attention
by those-dreamy-days
Summary: Kurt Hummel is an English teacher who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time...in front of the wrong slushy cup. Appropriate warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**AN. I'm starting to wonder why I get all these writing ideas when I'm sick.  
>Oh well. Enjoy! And reviews are always nice :)<strong>

**Title comes from the quote:**

_Curiosity is as much the parent of attention, as attention is of memory._**  
><strong>_-Richard Whately._

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><p>"So remember to have your essays finished for Monday. And revise your quotes!" Kurt raised his voice over the bell that signified the end of his class. He began to pack up his desk and head out for lunch, smiling at the passing students and even accepting Noah Puckermans passing high-five with a laugh. "Catch you later, Mr Hummel!"<p>

He really did love his job. Kurt never expected English literature to appeal to him, but he was glad it did. Finding students with a genuine passion for literature and helping others _gain _their passion was always fulfilling.

Once ready, Kurt left the classroom – making sure to lock the door behind him – and hoisting his bag strap up he made for the school exit with a smile on his face.

A small form sped across the corridor in front of him, making Kurt stop. He was positive he recognised those red pants and unruly curls… Curious as ever (Kurt's biggest flaw), he headed toward the corner the student had turned.

"He's right there!" echoed a deep voice down the emptying corridor.

"We've got him cornered now." another harsh sneer said.

Kurt barely had time to process the deep voices approaching from the adjacent corridor as he turned the corner to see the student –_Blaine Anderson? – _and the fear openly displayed on his face before he was slammed with a wave of cold ice.

Kurt tried to open his eyes and figure out _what the fuck just happened, _but when it burned to open them he stopped and instead wiped with his hands. When he could finally see again he recognised the cold mush as one of the schools signature slushies. Kurt felt a lump of ice fall off his hair and slip down the back of his shirt. Mr Hummel also finally understood the phrase, 'like being bitch-slapped by an ice berg.'

"Oh my god, Mr Hummel-" one of the three boys in letterman jackets holding slushy cups beside him started. Kurt promptly raised his hand and he shut up immediately.

Licking his lips, Kurt ignored the explosion of flavour within his taste buds, and his jaw clenched as he carefully turned to face them.

"Principal's office." He stated quietly, but when the three looked as if they were about to protest, his voice rose to an alarming level (something he_ never_ done) "**Now!" **the jocks swiftly scampered off to the office.

Kurt remained still, breathing heavily in an attempt to reign in his anger, when a light and warm touch made a presence on his arm.

"Mr Hummel?" asked a small voice.

Kurt cast his eyes toward Blaine (in all honesty, Kurt had forgotten he was even there) but when their eyes met, every ounce of burning anger inside of Kurt disappeared. Blaine's eyes were the kind you could stare into over and over again and each time still end up hopelessly lost. Warm and golden with flecks of lighter gold surrounding them. They were full of love and admiration, which at that moment were overpowered by the concern and fear he showed.

Blaine cleared his throat and looked away, attempting to shake the suddenly thick air surrounding him.

"I, um…I have a towel." He said as he pulled open his bag.

"You say that as if this is a regular occurrence." Kurt said jokingly, a smile teasing at his lips.

Blaine only shrugged in return, pulling out a towel which Kurt thought must have been white once, but was now littered with multi-coloured stains. Kurt's brow furrowed in concern, but before he could ask, his face was promptly covered in the soft material Blaine was holding.

He could feel Blaine's fingers through the towel, slowly wiping away at the red slush melting off of Kurt's face and he inwardly sighed, _this will be a bitch of a stain to get out… _Blaine worked upwards, slowly massaging the towel through Kurt's hair in an attempt to remove the worst of the ice lumps.

All too soon however, Blaine was taking the towel away again, his warm touch with it and in a moment of need, Kurt stopped Blaine's hands as the towel fell away from his face.

At the sudden contact, Blaine looked up at his English teacher and kept still. Mr Hummel's hands were deliciously smooth and firm around his as his fingers delicately traced up the side of his wrist. Blaine could feel the slight pulse emanating from their tips and all he wanted to do was turn his palm and link their fingers together.

Kurt stared at Blaine again, not in a creepy stalker way though, and all he longed to do was to sweep the small curly haired student into his arms and protect him from the obvious bullying he was going through.

"_Bullying," _Kurt thought. The thought that someone would want to hurt – physically or emotionally – someone as delicate and perfect as Blaine made his stomach clench. His grip on Blaine's hands tightened and he looked deeply into his eyes.

"Blaine…you know if you need to talk, I can listen." he didn't get a chance to hear a reply. The doors to the cafeteria burst open and a group of noisy students jostled out together.

Before he knew what was happening, Blaine had practically thrown the towel at Kurt and with a mumbled "Sorry Mr Hummel," he was gone.

And that was that. The students filed by noisily, some side-eyeing Kurt, still standing in his puddle of slush as he watched Blaine disappear through a doorway.

He looked down at the towel in his hands and smiled. _Blaine Anderson._

After all, curiosity was Kurt's biggest flaw.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN - So originally I hadn't planned on continuing this, but by request I have! I have the whole thing planned and it's taken a different turn than my original idea, it's now a little darker...but I hope it still works out.  
><strong>

**Warnings - I'll be appropriately warning each chapter as they come (to avoid spoiling my own story) but really overall I'd warn it as teacher/student relations, swearing, severe bullying and possible triggers.**

**Hope I warn correctly, hope you enjoy this chapter and genuinely hope you stick around 'till the end! Enjoy** :)

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><p>The noise of a Monday morning bustled all over the grounds: door slamming, car horns ringing loud, names hollered across the football fields and the chants of the cheerleaders' morning drills. Blaine smiled sadly as he prepared himself for another week of keeping his head down, and hoped for the best as he locked his car door and trudged into the building.<p>

"Blaine!" an overly-energetic body topped with a mop of blonde hair bounced up next to him, "Good morning!" he chirped, far too eager for the time, falling into step with Blaine.

"Morning, Sam." Blaine grinned, happy to see his best friend.

"So?" Sam prompted, "How'd it go?" he asked, shoving Blaine's shoulder lightly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Blaine feigned innocence, smirking as Sam made a face when he didn't continue.

"Oh come on. I didn't have to perform a 'save Blaine from his ridiculous family' mission and you didn't even call me once so I'm guessing either technology failed you or you actually enjoyed yourself!" Sam gushed, grasping Blaine's shoulders and grinning excitedly.

"I…okay. Yes…I may have enjoyed myself," Blaine sighed, "I missed Zach so much more than I even realised."

They reached Blaine's locker and he began to fill his bag with the necessary books for his first classes. Sam watched with a loving smile, genuinely feeling his heart warm at knowing Blaine felt that way.

"Would you stop looking at me like that? It's creepy." Blaine eyed Sam as he took out his calculus textbook. He scrunched his eyebrows together when Sam began to flail.

"Shit! Calculus!" he exclaimed, his face the picture of horror.

"Yeeeeeees…" Blaine drawled, nodding slowly.

"No, I-" Sam huffed, "Look Blaine, as much as I really want to hear about your weekend, I do actually prefer my head attached to my shoulders." Sam frantically ran back down the corridor, "Left my calculus stuff in my locker!" he yelled over his shoulder.

Blaine could only laugh to himself as he turned back to his locker. His eyes drifted to the photograph of his brother Zach and him he always kept pinned to the door. Blaine allowed his fingertips to carefully brush over the picture and thought back over his weekend…

When Zach walked through the door to the Anderson household late Friday night, Blaine felt like his world exploded with joy. No sooner had Zach taken off his coat and Blaine had thrown himself onto his older brother and gripped so tightly he left Zach choking form laughter and lack of oxygen. Zach had returned home for a while from New York whilst he had some time off work and demanded his family clear their weekend schedules for him. Blaine had no problems at all in doing so; sending Sam a quick apology text explaining Zach was home and he'd have to bail on their planned marathon of Star Wars the following evening – Sam understood though, so everything was fine.

Growing up, Zach was more than a big brother to Blaine. He was Blaine's role model, his shoulder to cry on, his scheming partner, his threat to people picking on him. Zach was always there for Blaine no matter what, and their relationship remained ridiculously strong as the years passed. So, understandably, when Zach sat down to dinner one evening and announced he was moving to New York with his girlfriend, Blaine was lost. Zach stuck to his promise however, calling every second night and still being there for his little brother whenever he needed him.

When Blaine began to come to terms with his sexuality, he was afraid to tell Zach. Somehow the thought had gotten into his head that his brother would be disappointed in him; would think less of him and their bond would be broken forever. But after coming out to his parents first, and one hysterical argument later, Blaine told Zach. To this day the words his brother said over the phone to him never fail to make him smile.

"_So? You're still my little brother, Blaine. It just means any guy that wants you has to have my approval. Now, when do you want to visit?"_

And that was it. No fussing, no remarks – much unlike his parents. Zach accepted Blaine and his sexuality as easily as he would a morning cup of coffee.

So having Zach home again was a huge relief and joy to Blaine. They had happily spent the whole weekend together doing the same old things they would do when Zach still lived at home. Dinners were less awkward too, with Zach having plenty to offer up for conversation, but still never failing to include Blaine.

Basically, Blaine really fucking loved his big brother.

Happily sighing, Blaine zipped up his bag and stepped back to close his locker over, only to be slammed face-first back into it.

"Sup, ladyboy!" cheered a passing group of jocks in letterman jackets.

The force of the collision set Blaine off balance, and he slid to the floor in a painful heap just in time for the contents of his locker to topple on top of his head. Blaine hung his head in defeat as he slowly gathered up his surrounding papers. Ultimately, the only thing Zach _didn't_ know about Blaine was the extent of the torturous bullying he was forced to endure daily – no one knew. Well, that wasn't entirely true. People _knew_ - they could see clearly, just never seemed to really acknowledge it enough to help.

Blaine filled his locker again and rested his forehead against the cool metal for a second, scrunching his eyes shut before steeling himself and heading to first period calculus.

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><p>Blaine's day went pretty much as expected: explaining every second thing written on the board to Sam during calculus; locker shove on the way to chemistry; target for paper balls scrawled with insults during history; more locker shoves and more insults and of course, the daily slushy.<p>

What Blaine hadn't been expecting however, was for the slushy to come at the _end_ of his lunch period, unlike the usual beginning.

And that's how he ended up practically running to his English literature class, already ten minutes late after cleaning himself up to the best of his ability. Much to his horror, he discovered he had no hair gel left. So instead of his usual semi-controlled hair, it was left free to curl wildly. Blaine tried to put it out his mind - there was nothing he could do now.

Knocking lightly on the classroom door, Blaine pushed it open as little as possible and slipped inside only to pause when he noticed the position of the only available seat. The last empty desk of the class was directly in front of Bradley Hunter – one of Blaine's tormentors. Swallowing hard, he locked eyes with Sam, who could only shrug and offer him a sad smile.

"Mr Anderson, is there a problem?" Mr Hummel's light voice brought his attention to the front of the room.

"No, sir. My apologies for being late." Blaine muttered, sliding into the desk and pretending not to notice the huge smirk Bradley wore which could easily rival that of any super villain.

"It's quite alright. Just try to catch up." Mr Hummel offered him a smile, which Blaine minutely returned. Blaine thought back to the previous Friday, on which he was attempting to escape his second slushy of the day when Mr Hummel had stepped right into the fire line and taken full force of the iced drink. Although Mr Hummel had been positively _fuming, _threatening to melt the ice dripping off his head, the culprits had only received a week's detention.

But then Blaine thought back to the moment they shared afterwards. He chewed on the end of his pen thoughtfully, wondering what had actually passed between them.

He didn't have much longer to think though, because suddenly he was being roughly shoved forward in his chair, jerking him back to reality.

_Oh, right. That._

Blaine felt the weight of Bradley's foot press heavily against the back of his chair before a rough kick threatened to project his whole desk to the front of the room. But Blaine could only sigh and grip the table edge a little harder as he tried to ignore the string of whispered insults he could here Bradley mutter under his breath.

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><p>Kurt looked up from his laptop at the sound of a chair scratching against the floor, but when he saw no one on their feet he shook his head and returned to typing up reports. A second, louder screech made him look around the room this time, inspecting the hunched forms of his students scrawling notes until he reached the front row and set his eyes upon Blaine Anderson.<p>

Blaine sat strangely still, one hand gripping the edge of the desk and the other clutched so tightly around his pen Kurt was marvelled at how it hadn't snapped. But what really caught Kurt's attention were Blaine's wild curls. His usually tamed hair now sat atop his head, every single strand freely and perfectly twisted and curled, falling lightly over the top of his oddly triangular shaped eyebrows.

Kurt didn't like to say he was staring, just more…paying attention. Ever since the incident with the slushy and Blaine and that _feeling _deep inside of him, Kurt couldn't help but wonder about Blaine more than he probably should. He began to become more aware of Blaine whenever they passed in the hallways. Blaine either kept his head down, arms wrapped securely around himself and his books as he walked quickly, or was accompanied by a tall energetic blonde Kurt thought he recognised as Sam Evans. With Sam was the only time Kurt would see Blaine smile in school.

Kurt became far too curious for his own good and, using school records _('this is not creepy, I'm simply checking up on a student' _Kurt had told himself) he discovered Blaine's age, his grade averages and that he could sing. But Kurt also discovered a rather long list of harassment reports Blaine had made to teachers within the school. They started about a year into Blaine beginning high school and continued regularly right up until recently when they stopped suddenly.

Watching Blaine carefully, Kurt wondered why he stopped reporting the bullying that was still happening if the incident the other day had anything to say about it. He wondered what he could do to help Blaine, _if _he could help Blaine.

Sighing to himself, Kurt sat up straighter and went to turn his eyes back downwards when Blaine's form was roughly shoved, chair and table sliding forward. He looked at Blaine, who only hung his head lower and gripped the table tighter causing his knuckles to turn white. Behind him a booted foot rose against his chair again and Kurt followed the foot to its owner, eyes landing on the smirking face of Bradley Hunter. Bradley pressed against Blaine's chair pushing forward a little as his eyes bore into the back of Blaine's head, and finally Kurt understood.

"Mr Hunter. Is there a problem?" he said sternly, mouth set in a firm line as he stared at Bradley.

"No, sir. Not at all." Bradley's face shifted expertly into a charming grin directed at Kurt as he tried to play the innocent card.

"Well keep your feet on the floor please, thank you." Kurt returned, watching Bradley for a second longer before the bell sounded. "Blaine, could you stay behind a second please?" Kurt requested, rising to his feet slowly and not failing to notice the worried look shared between Blaine and Sam or the narrow-eyed glare Bradley sent Blaine as they left through the doorway.

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><p>Feeling his stomach tighten in an uncomfortable knot, Blaine drifted slowly toward Mr Hummel's desk where he stood tidying up papers until the last student left. After the room emptied, he walked briskly to the door and closed it shut, blocking out the bustle from the hallway before slowly facing Blaine and looking at him worriedly.<p>

"Is…something wrong Mr Hummel? If this is about me being late to class today-" Blaine started to babble, pretending he was clueless as to why he was here.

"No it's not that." Mr Hummel sighed, "Blaine, I know I may not be able to understand the teenage mind the way I used to, but I can still understand the way someone looks when they're being harassed." he said softly, the sincerity of his words displaying in his grey-blue eyes.

Blaine swallowed hard, fidgeting nervously. He couldn't tell, _wouldn't _tell. This was his problem and his problem alone – he'd learned that the hard way. Previously telling anyone about the bullying had had little to no effect on his situation, and more often than not would have disastrous consequences for him and others. The last time he tried to report anything, _Sam's _locker had been horridly vandalised and Blaine had suffered a horrifying week of extra abuse during PE. He'd figured it would be better to just stop all together.

So as Mr Hummel looked over him with those eyes full of concern, Blaine pulled on his mask and tried his hardest to give him a positive smile. "No no, nothing like that's going on." Blaine lied.

"Well okay then," Either Mr Hummel bought his excuse, or just decided he wasn't worth the effort because suddenly he stood a little straighter and moved aside to let Blaine leave. Before Blaine passed him however, Mr Hummel cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small smile. "If you ever need help with anything – anything at all – you know where to find me."

Blaine nodded and hurried out of the class, closing the door behind him and leaning against it heavily, sighing deeply.

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><p>From inside the class, Kurt leaned against the wall and thumped his head harshly on it, fighting against the constricting feeling inside his chest.<p>

When Blaine pulled on that smile…_that smile_ that obviously was an attempt to cover up mounds of pain, Kurt was smacked painfully in the chest with the exact image of his seventeen year old self. Broken, hurt and feeling so alone even in a room full of people.

That recognition was more than enough to eliminate Kurt's curiosity in Blaine and replace it all with determination – determination to make Blaine's life a hell of a lot easier than his had been. Kurt _would_ help Blaine, no matter what it took.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading! And of course, reviews are encouragement ;)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**AN - Hello again! So I have the next chapter for you...but there are some parts I'm not too sure of to be honest. I hope they work for you though!  
>I'm also testing the waters with a new character here, so if you spot him let me know if you want him to reappear or not ;)<strong>

**Warnings - angst, mild violence I suppose...and triggers maybe?(I don't know when to correctly warn for triggers, so if anyone could give me a hand I'd be forever grateful).**

**Enjoy! :)**

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><p>As it turns out, helping Blaine would take <em>a lot <em>of work.

The next few days gave Kurt no help in improving Blaine's state as he continued to suffer the unnecessary daily torture McKinley High threw at him. The universe also seemed to enjoy torturing Kurt in the process too as the days passed and Kurt could only watch helplessly: another teacher, a window, a crowd in his path as Blaine was victim to every slushy, every shove, every insult, and every glare sent his way. And those were only the ones Kurt witnessed.

But there were a particular three incidents which stood out for Kurt, amongst the list longer than his own arm, three incidents which he couldn't seem to shake.

The first was the morning after his discussion with Blaine. Kurt was making himself a morning cup of coffee in the teachers' lounge when a trio of towering jocks stormed past the open doorway, making a beeline for a set of lockers visible through the window of the lounge. Following the sickening feeling in his stomach, he followed them with his eyes only to wince as Blaine was shoved ferociously backwards into the open door of his locker. The jocks descended onto Blaine's hunched form, and Kurt watched as one he recognised as Gary leaned close into Blaine's ear and whispered something, which from the way Blaine swallowed hard Kurt guessed it wasn't a friendly good morning. Just as Kurt was considering leaving and going to check on Blaine, a bundle of blonde energy skidded next to Blaine and grinned widely at him. Blaine seemed to visibly relax, and even though his face contorted a little as he shouldered his bag, Kurt felt a little relieved that Blaine had at least given half a smile.

The second time was the next day, again in the corridors. Kurt was aimlessly wandering to his car to collect some books between classes when his blood turned cold. "Hey _faggots!" _he spun around so fast he had to regain his balance, but he didn't fail to see the cups of red and purple ice launched into the unsuspecting faces of Sam and Blaine. Kurt moved at once, dodging students and teachers alike through the corridor as he made his way toward the pair, only to be met with a puddle of melting E numbers on the floor and no Sam or Blaine anywhere to be found. It was at this point Kurt decided the universe was working against him.

The final incident had taken place during lunch as Kurt chatted idly with a couple of other teachers, drifting in and out of the conversation and scanning the crowds of eating students. He was aimlessly watching the Glee club dancing around their table together while he smiled fondly at the memories it gave him when an impressive clatter followed by loud laughter sounded behind him. Kurt swivelled around in his chair and gasped when he saw Blaine sprawled across the floor, presumably what was his lunch now scattered around him. Blaine wasn't the clumsy type – Kurt knew that, so when he spotted Bradley Hunter and Azimio Adams sharing a very indiscreet high five, his sickening suspicions were only confirmed.

Apparently a month of detention for hitting a teacher with a slushy didn't discourage bullying.

That was yesterday, and Kurt still hadn't managed to get the way the other teachers surrounding him dismissed the incident with an annoyed sigh and returned to eating their lunches out of his mind. Kurt may not have been a teacher as long as the others at this school, but he was pretty sure their actions were not the correct ones to take.

However, Kurt knew he was in no such position to be questioning the discipline tactics of the more experienced teachers around him, so no matter how much it bugged him he would just have to keep those thoughts and opinions to himself. Putting it to the back of his mind, Kurt began to tidy up the papers on his desk.

"Sooo…up for another night at Scandals tonight, handsome?" a voice laced with cockiness danced across the room to Kurt's ears, which recognised it at once.

"Piss off. You really think I'm going there with you again after last time?" Kurt challenged, turning to face the doorway.

The figure grabbed at his chest painfully and gasped, "That's not very nice, is it professor? In fact, I feel deeply wounded by your ignorance."

"Oh I'm sorry, where are my manners?" Kurt replied sarcastically, "_Please _piss off." He finished bluntly and walked toward him, taking in the stance of the man leaning against the doorframe.

Sebastian Smythe, mathematics professor here at McKinley high, stood with toned arms folded over a broad chest wearing his notorious confident smirk and raised eyebrows and Kurt over his emerald green eyes. Sebastian was one of Kurt's closest college friends, and by some sheer chance of fortune (good or bad, Kurt was undecided. It tended to vary) had landed their first jobs together here in McKinley. When they first met in college it took a while to adjust to each other's personalities, but they managed to and now shared a comfortable banter no one but others they went to college with could understand.

"Well, I guess it's better than your last decline. I do recall something along the lines of 'sex addict' and 'go fuck yourself.' By the way? Great advice." Sebastian grinned and winked. Kurt could only look up at him in utter disbelief.

A student with long curly hair walked by the doorway, smiling shyly and blushing as she gave a small, "Hi, Mr Smythe." Sebastian only had to smile in his charming way and wave a little and the girl was sent down the corridor in a mess of giggles.

Kurt shook his head, "And here's me thinking you were gay…"

"Please, of course I am. What with an ass like yours strutting around Lima it escapes me how there's a straight guy left in this place." Sebastian waved the accusation away confidently, "so, you up for it?"

"Not tonight. Tomorrow, maybe?" Kurt sighed. He wasn't really in the mood to spend the night looking after a drunk and horny Sebastian - _again._

"Sure. You're one of the lucky few to have my number - drop me text if you change your mind, gorgeous." Sebastian winked again and moved out of the doorway for Kurt to pass through.

"I also thought the creepy compliments would stop after college too. Obviously not!" Kurt said over his shoulder as Sebastian walked backwards down the corridor, holding his arms out.

"What? I can't help it. Plus they're all true so you shouldn't be complaining!" he shouted after Kurt.

Laughing, Kurt turned away again and decided to go pick up a coffee before lunch. Just as he turned the corner however, all ideas of coffee or breaks were eliminated immediately. He spotted Blaine, walking in quick strides down the corridor; head down as he was pursued by, yet again, three jocks in letterman jackets. One of them managed to grab Blaine by the collar of his shirt, violently hauling him back as his books were sent everywhere and swiftly pinning him to the wall. Blaine put up no fight, only squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to cover his face with his arms. Kurt was sure he could hear Blaine mutter frantically something about, "Not my face. Hit me as hard as you like anywhere else, just not my face." his voice breaking every few syllables.

That really had done it for Kurt – no way _in hell _was he about to stand by and let this happen again. Inhaling deeply he stalked over, all his normal control gone as he swore he could feel his temperature rising by several degrees. Rational thought left his mind the moment he saw the tallest boy raise his fist into the air.

"_**What the fuck do you think you are doing?" **_Kurt screamed louder than he ever had at a student before, grabbing his wrist and hauling him around to face him.

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><p>The voice was so surprising, so random that Blaine snapped his head up just to make sure he wasn't hearing things.<p>

Nope, he definitely wasn't hearing things. Mr Hummel stood face to face with Bradley Hunter, positively _shaking _with fury, his fingers on a tight lock around Bradley's wrist. Bradley was so blown away at the unexpected outburst that he stood in silence for a good few seconds until Mr Hummel forced him back to reality.

"_Well?_ I'm waiting!" Mr Hummel continued, his breathing was coming hard and Blaine watched his jaw clench repeatedly as his eyes bore into Bradley.

The other two holding Blaine to the wall released him immediately and slowly started shuffling away from the scene, hoping to go unnoticed. They weren't so successful.

Grasp not leaving Bradley's wrist, Mr Hummel sent a glare toward them and they stopped at once, eyes hitting the floor.

"Let me _go. _You don't have the right to be treating me like this!" Bradley came back to life, struggling against the grip around him.

"And you have the right to be treating Blaine like this?" Mr Hummel exploded, causing Blaine to flinch back at his tone.

"That's different, we're students! You're a teacher! I could have you fired for this!" Bradley continued to fight back, yanking his hand away harder.

The grip didn't loosen, "Go on then! Because if I'm going to lose my job for anything it's going to be for protecting someone innocent." His voice became so low it was no more than a venomous whisper.

Bradley scoffed, "But he did ask for it. He still is. Being gay does that kind of thing to you, you should know that Mister Hummel." he narrowed his eyes at Mr Hummel, holding his gaze and finally wrenching his arm free.

Now Blaine's been terrified before. The years of torturous bullying and screaming matches with his father have him terrified on a regular basis, but none of that could compare to how he felt when he saw _fire _in Mr Hummel's eyes. Blaine watched as his English teacher slowly walked forward, backing Bradley up to the wall opposite Blaine.

Mr Hummel's fist rose to press against Bradley's chest, "You really think that I'm going to let you - some s_tupid, shallow __**student **_–"

"Kurt!" a different voice echoed down the hallway, "Kurt, what- what are you doing?_ Stop_." Blaine tore his gaze away to see Professor Smythe running toward them. "Kurt, calm down. Let him go." He placed his hands on Mr Hummel's shoulders.

"Let go Sebastian. For the love of all that is good, _let me go._" Mr Hummel demanded through clenched teeth.

"You know I can't do that, Kurt. Now come on, let go. Don't be stupid." Professor Smythe continued. Blaine marvelled at how calm and composed his voice was.

It was a few more seconds before Mr Hummel let go of Bradley, but even then he continued to glare at him through the slits his eyes had become.

"I think you boys should go. But don't think this is over. I want an explanation." Professor Smythe said, side-glancing at Blaine.

Blaine gathered his books as quickly as he could, but took his time standing – the room seemed to spin a little and he was shaking quite a lot (_whenever that had started)._ He couldn't help over-hearing the conversation between both his teachers as he was leaving.

"Want to tell me what the hell that was all about, Kurt?" Professor Smythe scalded.

"You wouldn't understand, Seb." Mr Hummel snapped, but he seemed to instantly regret it, "It's just, I- Blaine…" he didn't finish.

Professor Smythe's voice was softer when he spoke next, "Blaine reminds you of high school, doesn't he?" Blaine's brow furrowed at that. It seemed more a statement than a question, "Kurt, if it's too hard for you to help him, you know I will."

"No! No, I'm fine. I want to, _need _to help him." Kurt responded.

Professor Smythe sighed, "Okay well…if you won't talk to me, talk to _someone _Kurt. Please."

"I know, I plan to." He reassured.

Their voices trailed away as Blaine turned the corner, but the whole ordeal only started to replay in his mind immediately, his frown lines becoming even deeper. Why was Mr Hummel so angry?What did Professor Smythe mean when he referred to 'high school'? _Why did either of them care?_

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><p>Kurt rubbed a hand over his face tiredly before knocking briskly three times on the door in front of him. It opened surprisingly quickly but he was relieved to see the familiar face behind it smiling warmly at him.<p>

"Kurt Hummel. Aren't you a sight for these sore eyes? Get in here!" Kurt began to feel relaxed already and he allowed himself to be hauled into a much welcome hug by one Dr. Quinn Fabray.

"Hello, gorgeous," he sighed, inhaling the wonderful sent of her perfume, "I assume you got my message?" Kurt asked, apprehensively pulling away only to see Quinn smiling sadly at him.

"Yes. And I know what you're thinking. Just because I'm a psychologist and you need to talk _does not _mean you are insane. We're still friends after all; my profession just helps me give better advice. Understand?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kurt laughed humourlessly, shrugging in agreement, "I guess. We can still follow the whole 'what's said in here stays in here' stuff though right? Cause…well really, I don't think it's my place to be telling other people this." Kurt let out in a rush, causing Quinn to form delicate frown lines beneath her wavy blonde hair.

"Let's just go through this slowly. And of course, I won't tell anyone. I'm also rather glad you came to me with this rather than the likes of Sebastian." She laughed, guiding Kurt toward the front room.

Once they were both seated comfortably next to each other on Quinn's lavish white sofa, Quinn sat patiently and waited for Kurt to start. He sat nervously, watching specs of dust highlighted by the last light of the day dance through the air and wringing his hands together back and forth. _I shouldn't be here, _he thought.

No. If he wanted to help Blaine, and _god_ he wanted to help Blaine more than anything, he had to figure out how and to him, Quinn was the only person he trusted enough to tell everything. Well, mostly everything. He would leave out the whole part about having romantic feelings for Blaine.

Kurt took a deep breath, "I don't…I don't have to tell you _everything_, do I?" he asked, turning to face Quinn.

She smiled softly and reached out to take his hands in hers, "Of course not, sweetie. Just tell me as much as you want and I'll do my very best to help you with whatever it is." Kurt nodded slowly, working out how to tell her in his mind.

He started off slowly, "Okay…so, basically I have a student- Blaine, his name is Blaine. And he um…he's getting bullied, really badly bullied." Kurt felt Quinn's hands tighten around his ever so slightly as he continued, "I keep seeing it, day after day, his face contorted in physical and emotional pain and the majority of the time there's nothing I can do because there's always _something _in the way of me getting to him to help. But even when I am there he…he just puts on this mask of bravery and tells me everything's okay when _it's so obviously not _and doesn't let me in to help him." Kurt looked up into Quinn's hazel eyes," That's all I want Q, I want him to let me in. I want to…I _need _to help him because there's so much of myself I see in him and I do not want Blaine to be that way but he just won't let me in and I don't know what to fucking do!"

Kurt wasn't sure when he started crying, but all of a sudden Quinn's arms were around him and he was sobbing brokenly into her shoulder as she made soothing noises and gently rocked back and forth. They remained like this for a good five minutes when all of a sudden Kurt realised exactly what he was doing and pulled himself together immediately.

_This is for Blaine. You have to be strong, be strong for Blaine, _he reminded himself and wiped furiously at his eyes with his sleeves.

"Here," Quinn said, offering him a tissue, "Well...that wasn't quite what I was expecting." She looked thoughtful for a few moments while Kurt cleaned himself up and regulated his breathing. When she spoke again her tone was serious yet soft, "Kurt, first of all, Blaine isn't you. For one he actually has teachers fighting to help him." she offered him a smile which he returned slightly, "Okay, so you say he won't let you in?" Kurt shook his head, "Does he know he can trust you?" she continued.

"Of course he does. I've lost count of the amount of times I've reassured him that if he needs a_nything _he knows where to find me." Kurt defended.

"Well, have you _shown _him that he can trust you?" Quinn prompted, making Kurt look at her in confusion. "It's not always enough just to say 'you can trust me' over and over, maybe you need to act. Give him that little shove in the direction of _feeling _that he can trust you instead of just hearing the words." Quinn finished, looking at Kurt intently.

Kurt took in this information, considering it very carefully. Quinn always did know the right words to say, even before she became a psychologist (and a very good one, she worked hard to get to where she was now). Away back in high school whenever anyone was troubled, she would be the person to set them in the right direction. Kurt was ridiculously grateful for her.

"Okay?" Quinn said, smiling warmly and squeezing his hands a little.

Kurt nodded slowly, "Okay." And returned her smile, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"Now, fancy a catch up on this week's Next Top Model?" Quinn asked, getting to her feet. Kurt sighed contently, feeling a little more relaxed about the whole Blaine situation now that he had an idea bobbing around in his head.

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><p>Later that night Blaine lay in bed staring at the ceiling, ignoring the stinging at the back of his eyes that wasn't caused by his pain medication. He refused to cry. He wouldn't cry.<p>

Blaine wanted to trust Mr Hummel…_Kurt_, more than anything. He wanted to believe _so bad _that he could make things better. But the confusion he felt after the incident today only made him doubt that belief. _Did he care? __**Why**__ did he care? _And Blaine wasn't prepared to build himself up for disappointment, not anymore.

No, he refused to cry. He wouldn't cry.

* * *

><p><strong>Now I'm afraid I can't say the next chapter will be up soon, it's exam time for me so I don't think I'll have much free time for the next couple of weeks. It will definitely be out before the end of the month though, so stick with me!<br>I'm starting to feel bad for doing this to poor Blaine...  
>Leave a review? You have all been so amazing with your reviews, thank you so much. They give me encouragement to keep writing.<br>**Thank you for reading! :)** **


	4. Chapter 4

**AN. *peeks from behind wall* I'm an awfulawful person oh man I'm so sorry for the wait on an update. But it's here now so FINALLY.  
><strong>**Awesome points for people who pick up on my references here too ;)**

**Warnings: Um, self loathing, bullying, memories of bullying...guh I suck at warnings.  
>(so if anyone see's something I shouldshouldn't warn...drop me a hint, please)**

**Anywaaaaaaay, enjoy!**

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><p>It's 7am when Blaine is awakened by his alarm for yet another school day. He contemplates hitting snooze and just lying there for another few moments, but the smell of cooking and thrum of melodies coming through his cracked door evoke his curiosity too much, and in the end he hauls himself off to the bathroom for his morning routine.<p>

_Toothbrush, toothpaste. Water. Hairgel, comb, hairspray._

Blaine scrunches his nose at his reflection in the mirror once he thinks he's done. It's not the best he's looked, Blaine thinks, but he could look a lot worse.

Just as he's about to leave, a little orange tub balancing precariously on the shelf grabs his attention. Blaine almost sighs in defeat. It's as if he's spent his entire high school life drugged up on various types of medication. Well, at least that's what he tells his parents anyway; when in reality it's been a constant supply of painkillers which have recently gone up in strength. _Sports injuries, _he's said. _Stress induced headaches,_ he uses frequently. _I fell down the stairs last night…twice! _he's even used once, in a desperate bid to explain why he urgently needed another prescription after that one time he tried to fight back against Bradley. (Hint: if it wasn't for Professor Smythe's habit of taking a shortcut between the main building and the dumpsters, Blaine wasn't sure he would've walked away). Pouting, Blaine clicked open the top and tipped a couple of white pills into his hand. He sticks the container in his pocket before half filling a glass with water and swallowing both pills in one go.

Examining his reflection again, Blaine can't help but think how much of a false pretence his whole life is. He shakes his head and ignores the fact that his only chance at relief comes from those two little blocks of powder every morning.

* * *

><p>"<em>You are my sunshiiiiiine, my only sunshiiiiine, you make me happyyyyyy, when skies are graaaay…"<em>

Following what smelled like a promise of fresh pancakes and eggs, Blaine can feel a grin twitching at the corners of his mouth when he approaches the kitchen. Zach stood in front of the cooker wearing their mother's apron, skilfully tossing pancakes into the air and catching them again on the frying pan.; his hips popped from side to side in time with the beat of the music he was also singing along to. Blaine's position from the doorway was compromised however, when he caught a glance of his brothers' face and noticed the splotches of flour covering his flawless complexion.

Zach spun round and beamed at Blaine, "B! You're up! Breakfast?" he said, moving to the side to reveal a giant pile of fresh pancakes and eggs.

"Did you make these from scratch?" Blaine asked, taking a seat at the old dining table in the middle of the kitchen.

"Yup." His brother replied, not even trying to hide the pride in his voice or on his face, "The folks left early this morning, thought I'd see if this kitchen was as good as they say so."

Blaine raised an eyebrow at Zach, questioning his brothers' motives. Zach sat down across from him and presented their breakfast in the middle of the table, not wasting a second before forking three pancakes onto his plate.

"Who knew something as simple as pancakes could take so much _effort._" He proclaimed, looking confused as he scrutinized his pancake.

Blaine just smiled and shook his head, reaching out to take a pancake from the top of the pile. He risked a glance up at Zach before striking a conversation, "So um, when are you planning on heading back to New York?"

"Sick of me already little brother? Fine, suppose I'll just have to take these then!" Zach exclaimed, reaching out and pulling the plate into his arms. Blaine gasped, mocking offense as he grabbed the plate back again.

"Not at all. I just want to know if you'll still be here for the weekend. I was thinking of going to see a movie and-"

"Aaand you want your brother to come be your wingman as you pick up some hot guy, whom you shall then go and see the movie with, not watching obviously, before whisking him away into a bathroom stall and ravishing him as I stay clueless in the lobby . Of course B, of course." Zach finished, talking sincerely like that would be the most obvious situation in the world.

Blaine laughed. A proper out loud bark of laughter. The sensation felt odd, something Blaine hadn't felt in a while. He looked over at his brother with eyes twinkling in delight. You'd never catch him saying this out loud, mainly because it would only add to the size of Zach's ego, but his brother made him happy. Really, really happy. Zach looked back at Blaine and smiled his goofy big brother smile - the one that makes his chin go a little wonky and his nose scrunches into an honest expression that just radiates _home_.

Zach was the first to break Blaine's little bubble of peace, "Come on, I'll give you a ride to school."

"You don't have to do that. I know you probably have other things to do." Blaine tried to protest, but before he even had both of his shoes on, his brother had whisked up Blaine's bag and was standing on the front porch.

"Blaine, get in the car." Zach said simply.

Blaine happily obliged.

* * *

><p>It's not often that Blaine reaches the end of lunch period with a clean outfit and the hope that maybe<em>, just maybe, <em>today will be a good day.

With Sam out due to flu or food poisoning or whatever reason he gave for not coming in for his calculus test today, Blaine is left to wander school alone. He makes a detour by his locker to swap some books for todays remaining classes, and it isn't until he's about to close his locker that all his hopes of a good day are dashed in the second it takes for the slushie to fill his pores.

"Looks like even Sammy boy has come to his senses and ditched you, fag!" comes the sneer soon after, and Blaine thinks he would've rather taken another slushie to the face than hear those words. It takes him a second to feel around in his locker for the towel he keeps there in case of emergencies like this. And even after the majority of the ice is gone from his face, hair and clothes, it still takes him a moment to notice the damage. But when Blaine sees it, it's like a blow to the stomach.

The photograph Blaine kept pinned to his locker was ruined. Obviously the angle those assholes had thrown at had been further into his locker than he thought. Blaine carefully removed the photo and tried his best to wipe the ice and dye from it, but his attempts were wasted. The dye and colours had blended together too much; changing what used to be a photograph of him and Zach sitting on the bonnet of Blaine's first car, arms around each other's shoulders and alike grins on their faces, into a blob of tones. Ignoring the pressure building behind his eyes, Blaine tossed the photo into his locker and slammed it shut; walking in the opposite direction of his English literature class with no intention of turning around.

Blaine thought back to how he and Zach had sang along to "_Highway To Hell_" obnoxiously loudly as Zach drove him to school, something which should have made him smile.

But instead, Blaine now thought of how he finally understood irony.

He reaches his destination and pushes the door to the library open. As soon as it closes the noise and bustle of McKinley is blanked out, allowing Blaine to relax a little. He walks to the furthest away corner, giving the librarian a tiny smile as he passes, and drops down into the chair. Before making himself comfortable Blaine pulls off his sweater and hangs it along the radiator adjacent to him - leaving him in just his undershirt. He then reaches into his bag and pulls out a book, the pages worn with age and use; quotes circled and favourite passages highlighted.

Wiping at his eyes a little, Blaine curls up into the chair and reopens the book at a familiar page. He re-joins _The Land Of Stories, _not for the first time wishing that he could join the twins and fall into a fairytale too.

* * *

><p>After a lack of small and curly in Kurt's class today, he's not too surprised when he finds Blaine huddled into himself in a far away corner of the library. He begins to head toward Blaine when- <em>oh snap, is he only in his undershirt? <em>Kurt drifts for a moment, appreciating the way Blaine's muscled arms flex slightly with every tiny movement, and the smooth, tan skin over his chest that leads up to his face – a face with an expression that punches Kurt in the soul. _Right. __**Student, **__Kurt, stop it._ He knows this is the right moment. Cautiously, Kurt wanders over and sits himself gently in the chair next to Blaine. Blaine doesn't acknowledge his presence, but Kurt knows Blaine is aware of him.

After a moment in silence, Kurt recognises the old worn out book Blaine is cradling in his hands, and smiles.

"You know um, they have hardback editions of that too. Seems like you need a new one." Kurt tries, gaining no kind of response from Blaine.

Swallowing slightly, he tries a different angle, "A flame may love a snowflake, but they can never be together without harming the other. Chapter 10, page 234," that gains a flick of Blaine's eyes in his direction, so he continues, "Fairytales are very good to read. I've read a lot of books, fairytales and not, and trust me when I say that book…it's something magical."

"I know." Blaine says quietly, not looking away from the pages.

Kurt smiles in reply; steeling himself in the moment because he knows it's now or never, and never just isn't an option anymore. "Look, Blaine...I know when people say to you, 'oh I know how you feel' you think…how? How do you know what I feel like right now? And for most people, you'd be right to question that. But every now and then you encounter someone who _really does _know how you feel because…" Kurt stops to take a shaky breath, focusing on the table in front of him and pushing down the emotions battling to break through his voice, "…because maybe they've been in your position. Maybe when they were your age, they had people like Bradley, and people in the rest of the school who saw everything first hand but never spoke up when it mattered most." Kurt's face twisted in disgust, "Maybe…maybe they couldn't help themselves, they just gave up and let the pain take over until they could get out of that hell hole and be free, but that just makes them all the more determined to prevent anyone else from following their path…to show just one person that they're not alone…" Kurt trailed off, not quite realising how much he'd said.

At some point after beginning to stare at the table, Kurt had failed to notice Blaine looking up from his book and giving Kurt all his attention. It wasn't until Blaine spoke that Kurt remembered exactly where he was and why.

"Why are you telling me this?" Blaine asked softly, timidly keeping eye contact with the teacher.

"Because I want to show you why I care. So maybe you'll open up to me. I don't know. I just want…need to help you, Blaine."

Kurt looked intently into Blaine's eyes, trying to show as much sincerity and promise as he could from his blue eyes into Blaine's brown, which right at this moment remind him significantly of that of a puppy's.

The door to the library opens and they are both brought roughly back to _oh yeah, McKinley._ Kurt reaches into his pocket for a slip of paper, creased and a little smudged from the number of times he's tossed it between his hands, waiting for the right moment to give it to Blaine since his evening with Quinn.

Kurt looks up at Blaine a little sheepishly, "I, um, I know this is very unprofessional of me. But I also know what it's like to need someone to unload to." He leans over and drops the paper onto Blaine's open book, pausing on his way back over. Watching Blaine very carefully, Kurt lightly grasps Blaine's hand in his, tracing his thumb in circles over Blaine's knuckles. When Blaine doesn't retract, Kurt takes it as an invitation to continue. "Don't be afraid to use it." he finishes with a smile, and with one final squeeze to Blaine's hand Kurt turns and walks back out of the library, ignoring the pounding in his chest.

* * *

><p>Blaine watches him leave; too scared to move in case the whole moment falls apart. As soon as Kurt disappears from the door, Blaine's gaze drops to the worn little piece of paper on his book. He watches the paper, as if waiting for it to spontaneously combust or something, all the while ignoring the strange tingling sensation across his hand. Blaine thinks if he concentrated hard enough, he'd still be able to feel the soothing circles over his hand.<p>

He subconsciously wonders what it'd be like to have that sensation again.

* * *

><p>It's late when Kurt hears his ringtone from the other room, and it takes all of his self-control not to dive from his bed to the couch. <em>Not getting my hopes up, <em>he thinks.

Kurt opens the message. Only a simple one worded text, but at the same time it's enough to make Kurt want to explode with relief and happiness and love and…love?

"Okay.

x"

_Oh._

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><p><strong>Tadaaaaaa... :)<br>I have the next chapter almost completely planned out, so it shouldn't be too long before the next update. It won't be as long as this one though omg.**

**Thank you for reading! A review is _always _encouragement.**

**:)**


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